


homecoming

by towokuwusatsuwu



Category: Crows Zero (Movies)
Genre: Communication, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Moving In Together, Multi, Polyamory, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 20:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15825957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/towokuwusatsuwu/pseuds/towokuwusatsuwu
Summary: ryohei grew up in a house without any affection or nurturing. kazeo is tired of knowing this and decides to change it. there is no place ryohei would rather be than with him, anyway.





	homecoming

On a Saturday morning in autumn, Kaburagi Kazeo finds himself crossing the threshold of the Kagami household for the first— and last— time. Ryohei Kagami is a mystery in and of himself, wrapped in so many gauzy layers behind stone walls that Kazeo occasionally doubts he is doing enough to reassure Ryohei that he can be trusted. In a way, the house is a clear symbol of this. Kazeo’s lips first met Ryohei’s when the cherry blossom petals were dancing through the air but it is not until months later that Ryohei invites him into his home.

_ My father would never approve. Not that it matters to me one way or another. I don’t put stock into what he says. _ Soft lips pressed into a thin line, dark eyes distant.  _ But I don’t think I could listen to him degrade you to me. It would be too difficult. _

Kazeo understands. Not everyone in the world is fortunate enough to have parents who love and accept them for who they are, and Ryohei is no different. With so many expectations heaped upon his delicate and exhausted shoulders, he chose the path of least resistance, keeping his private relationships to himself so that his father could never use them against him or hurt him in any way that might extend further to Kazeo himself.

The house is empty. Ryohei made it clear the house had to be empty before they could do anything, that even being old enough to live on his own did not guarantee it would be an easy venture of any kind. So when Kazeo hears soft footsteps on the hardwood flooring, he turns automatically to the sound, his entire body attuned to Ryohei’s presence more than he would ever admit in words. Or would be  _ able _ to admit without flushing and stuttering.

He steps into the entrance hall from what appears to be the kitchen, dressed down in a pair of sweatpants and a sweater Kazeo gave him from his own closet when the air first chilled enough to be noticeable. As small as he is, he takes cold easily and struggles to stay warm; he ended up pressed against Kazeo’s side when they were at his place together, wrapped up in the blanket from the bed and still shivering. It would have been wrong not to bundle him up in more layers to chase the chill from his skin, to warm him all the way through.

“Hi.” Ryohei’s voice is small and quiet, a token of his soft-spoken nature.

“Hey.” Kazeo feels his lips already curving into a fond smile at the sight of his boyfriend, the way Ryohei plants a hand against the doorframe like he needs it to anchor himself, eyes darting down and away the longer Kazeo holds his gaze. “C’mere, Ryohei.”

Two words is all it takes to break Ryohei out of his awkward shyness; he moves faster than anyone gives him credit for and  _ leaps, _ arms catching Kazeo around the neck. But they know each other well enough that Kazeo is already braced for it, hands catching Ryohei under the thighs before he slides down too far, coaxing him to wrap all of his limbs as tight around Kazeo as he wants, his face pressed against Kazeo’s shoulder.

It would feel wrong not to shower him with all the affection he could ever want.

“Are we being sappy cute without sharing?” The voice is Shibata Hiroki’s, a slight pout laced in his words as he finally succeeds in dragging the other two members of their party into the house. “Little prince, don’t you look so cute in Kazeo’s sweater?”

“Shut up,” Ryohei mumbles against Kazeo’s shirt, voice muffled and not at all cruel.

Shibata drifts across the entrance to rest his hand on Ryohei’s back, rough fingers and scarred knuckles with a touch so gentle it could comfort an angel. “I offer to help you move out without trying to charge you— and you can obviously afford to pay— and you’re mean to me like this.”

“Ease up, Hiroki,” Kazeo murmurs, his chin coming to rest on top of Ryohei’s head.

“It’s a big day for you, huh?” Shibata slips a hand across Kazeo’s chest until his fingers slip beneath Ryohei’s chin, tilting Ryohei’s face so he can look at him properly. “Finally moving out of your dad’s house. We’re all so proud of you.”

Ryohei is brave, Kazeo thinks. To go from a life empty of anything resembling tenderness or love to a relationship with four other people is a large leap and one he cannot even imagine making without serious help. Ryohei has no help, no friends to guide him or give him advice, and telling his father was never an option. The struggle is still there, of course, the way his cheeks burn when Shibata speaks to him, the twitch in his jaw that reveals how tempted he is to lean away from Shibata’s tender touch. When everything is still so new to him, too much physical contact makes him shy, makes him hide.

But Ryohei leans into Shibata’s touch and Kazeo can see the flicker of surprised pleasure in Shibata’s eyes; he can see the progress, too. “We have to be out of here in a few hours.”

“A few hours is more than enough time. We’re just shoving your shit in boxes, right?” Goura Tooru calls from where he pokes around a vase that probably costs more than Kazeo wants to think about right now. All they need is for him to break it.

Shibata twists his lips at the words. “We are  _ not _ shoving his personal belongings into boxes. We’re going to do everything just the way he wants it, even if that means super neat and tidy.”

“Thank you.” Ryohei runs his teeth over his lower lip, sweetly skittish. “There’s not too much. I went through everything already to decide what I wanted to take.”

“You can bring anything you want to bring, you know. I was serious when I said my apartment has enough room to move you and everything you own in.” Kazeo knows this is not, technically, the truth. He has limited space, but Ryohei is so much more important.

Ryohei rolls his eyes. “Not  _ everything _ I own is that important to me.”

“Well, we got boxes.” Yamashita Gohei holds up the stack of collapsed boxes in hand; Goura gestures with a large and cumbersome tape dispenser that looks like it might have been through hell and back. “So let’s stop talking and get to work packing you up, baby boy.”

Ryohei shoves his face back into Kazeo’s chest after that comment, his face furiously crimson, and Kazeo kisses him on the forehead before setting him on his feet so he can show them where his bedroom is. The house itself is extravagant, everything expensive and luxurious, but there is no shaking how cold the house feels, how carefully put together everything is. It feels like a show, like no one could possibly have lived here, much less for years. Of course Ryohei wants to escape a place like this, family notwithstanding.

His bedroom is just as cold and empty as the rest of the house and Kazeo tries not to let his breath hitch too hard or his chest ache too deep. Ryohei has slept in this room for years, this cold and impersonal space that hardly looks like the bedroom of a teenage boy.

The others fall quieter behind him as they file into the room; Shibata looks troubled and Goura raises his eyebrows, scanning the space before shaking his head. They can tell, too.

Yamashita is unfazed, though. Instead, he drops the pile of boxes on the floor and snags the tape dispenser from Goura’s hand, quickly assembling one of the boxes with a speed and efficiency that has Kazeo’s eyebrows shooting up. “Okay, Ryo, where are we starting?”

The packing is easy enough once they settle on a system and get started, passing folded clothes between themselves, books and other small things that Ryohei deemed too precious to leave behind. There are no pictures he wants to take with him, nothing to remind him of his family, and Kazeo worries his lower lip between his teeth almost hard enough to draw blood. He knows people have family troubles, of course, but Ryohei distancing himself so firmly from his family says so much about how he was treated and raised. It makes Kazeo feel ill.

While Shibata and Goura squabble over how to arrange a stack of books in one box, Ryohei drops down on the edge of his bed, obviously exhausted. The dark circles under his eyes are especially noticeable right now, and he toys with a loose thread on the cuff of his sweater, distracted. Kazeo sits beside him, wrapping an arm around his slim shoulders, drawing Ryohei up against his side until there is no space between them.

“You’ve never had anyone over, I’m guessing?” he asks, rubbing small circles into Ryohei’s back. “No friends or anything? It doesn’t seem like it.”

“No. Bringing people home was hardly a safe option.” Ryohei pulls the sleeves of his sweater over his fingers and turns, pressing his face into Kazeo’s chest.

“So I’m the first boy who’s ever sat on your bed with you.” The implication makes Kazeo a little dizzy even though he knew Ryohei had no partners before him, not even a crush that bloomed into something a little sweeter than hopeless longing.

Ryohei looks up at him, his soft blond fringe just long enough to tangle in his dark eyelashes. “You are. You know I’ve never been with anyone before you.”

“That’s exciting.” Kazeo smiles and though Ryohei’s cheekbones pick up the barest hints of pink, he holds eye contact. “Being your first  _ anything _ is exciting to me.”

His first true friend, his first kiss, his first boyfriend. Kazeo would have considered it asinine for anyone else to count such things as important, to keep track of them in such a way, but he treasures each new experience he can give Ryohei while acknowledging the bittersweet reality that Ryohei should have had all of this, and more. He might keep himself locked away but when he opens up, even just a little, Kazeo can hardly catch his breath.

Ryohei wets his lips, a nervous tick. “Well, congratulations on another first.”

“Come here.” Kazeo moves swiftly, pulling Ryohei in against him even as he twists them around, foot pushing against the floor to give him the momentum he needs.

He’s clumsy at this but he manages to lay Ryohei’s head on his pillow, hands pressed into the mattress on either side of it. The flush on Ryohei’s face is much more pronounced now, his lips parted just enough that Kazeo can hear the slightly labored shift in his breathing, and there is no hiding the way his eyes widen, sweet and surprised. Kazeo feels a bit like a fool and he can  _ feel _ the others staring at him, can almost  _ hear _ the remark Goura is barely holding back.

“You don’t have a lot of good memories in this room, do you?” Kazeo asks.

“No?” Ryohei squirms just a little beneath him, his hands fluttering before they settle across his stomach like he has no idea what to do with them. “Of course I don’t.”

The thought is painful, but Kazeo pushes aside that ache for now. “Then let me give you just one. Your first boyfriend kissing you on your bed. You deserve that much.”

“Oh.” Ryohei blinks up at him a few times, nods once. “Okay.”

Kazeo takes a moment just to study his face, his lips bitter and licked swollen from nerves, his eyes widen open and apprehensive at the same time they shine with excitement, his cheeks flushed and warm. When he blinks, Kazeo can’t help but notice how long his eyelashes are, how every part of him is so delicate and fragile and yet so strong, broken pieces molded back together through nothing more than sheer spite and independence. It is hardly a wonder that Ryohei struggles to open up to them when he closed himself off to survive.

No more of that, though.

He kisses Ryohei chastely at first, just a soft press of lips to lips, tilting his head just so their mouths meet seamlessly in the middle. There was no end of bumping noses and clacking teeth until they found the way their faces were meant to fit together and Ryohei sighs against his mouth, his hands finally moving, finding purchase in the front of Kazeo’s shirt, twisting the fabric and clinging to it. It’s a sharp contrast to his kiss, the way his lips move so slowly and carefully against Kazeo’s own, letting Kazeo lead.

It’s tempting to leave it at this, something sweet and simple, but Kazeo cups Ryohei’s cheek and deepens the kiss instead. He kisses harder, tongue sweeping over Ryohei’s lips until Ryohei opens his mouth around a little whine. It’s intoxicating how good it feels to kiss him, the clumsy movements of his tongue and the desperate way he yanks on Kazeo’s shirt.

When Kazeo finally leans back, Ryohei’s face is scarlet and he drags the sleeve of his sweater over his eyes. Kazeo pecks him on the lips just the same.

“Big honor watching you two make out,” Yamashita quips, winking when Ryohei scowls at him.

They finish packing away Ryohei’s things into boxes and carry them out to the car; Ken agreed to drive them, ecstatic when Kazeo told him they were moving Ryohei out of the house and into Kazeo’s apartment. He beams at them as they file out to the car, packing the boxes into the trunk. With nothing left to gather, Kazeo accompanies Ryohei back to the front door to lock up, shoving his hands into his pockets before the cool air can freeze them.

“You excited to get settled in?” he asks, watching Ryohei lock the door.

Ryohei is quiet, depositing the key in the mail box before tipping his head back and shivering. “It’s cold here, inside and out. But with you, I’m always warm. Did you know that?”

Kazeo bites down on his tongue and shuffles forward, pressing a kiss to Ryohei’s forehead. “I’m glad to hear it. C’mon, I even cleaned up the place to make it easier for you to move in.”

Goura has laid claim to the passenger seat, leaving the four of them to squeeze into the back, which is not without its difficulties. They might be breaking a law or two; Ryohei curls up against Kazeo’s chest, perched on his lap and wrapped tight in his arms, the seatbelt pulled awkwardly over both of them. Shibata makes faces at them, waggling his eyebrows when Kazeo shoots him a look; Yamashita just laughs and leans his head against Shibata’s shoulder, pawing at him for attention, only content when Shibata gives in and kisses him.

He was serious when he said he cleaned his apartment, tidying the space so that it would be easier to get the boxes in and start unpacking them. The clothing boxes go straight to the bedroom, Shibata accompanying Ryohei to help him organize everything while they work the rest of his possessions into the main apartment. His books end up packed into a small bookcase in the corner that Kazeo never used but ended up with just the same, Goura and Yamashita arguing over how to arrange the books before Kazeo takes the task from them.

“You two really gonna live together, huh?” Yamashita’s eyes crinkle when he smiles, and it makes Kazeo’s stomach toss and turn. “Just like a married couple.”

Kazeo snorts. “I guess,” he says. “But I am glad that he’s with one of us and not back there.”

“That house fucking sucked, man. If I’d known he was living like that, we’d have gotten him out of there faster.” Goura’s lips purse and Kazeo stretches out a hand, wrapping it around the back of his neck and squeezing gently. “Upsets me, I dunno. It was so empty.”

Yamashita nods in agreement. “It looked like it was staged or something but I guess that makes sense for yakuza. No more of that, though, right? Kazeo’s place is a real home.”

“I try.” Kazeo tries not to let either of them see how the words have emotions welling up in him he isn’t prepared to deal with, organizing the last of Ryohei’s books. “Let’s get this done.”

Shibata, Goura, and Yamashita leave after they finish with the packing, each of them holding Kazeo up at the door for a goodbye kiss before they’re willing to let him close the door. Ryohei is already settled in on the couch with a cup of tea, having stolen the blanket from the back of the couch to wrap around his legs. The blanket is not new, but it is for Kazeo— he’d mentioned to Yamashita that Ryohei got cold often and Yamashita showed up one day with the blanket, one his grandmother handmade and warmer than anything money can buy.

Kazeo sits down and Ryohei stretches out his legs to rest his feet in Kazeo’s lap. “So, you feel better? I know it’s a big change for you, but—”

“I’m happy.” Ryohei sets his cup on the coffee table and crawls into Kazeo’s lap, tucking the blanket around both of them. “It isn’t just about leaving that house for me. I’m grateful to be out of it but I’m happy because… Because I’m with you, Kazeo. I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

Kazeo’s throat closes at the words and he wraps his arms around Ryohei, kissing the top of his head before giving him a proper kiss. It’s going to be an interesting change, living with someone instead of living on his own, much less living with someone he’s been dying to wake up beside every morning, someone he knows he can fall asleep comfortably next to every night. Maybe he’s a sap but he’s been longing for something like this with Ryohei especially, something small and intimate and quiet, something for just the two of them.

Ryohei is still smiling when he finally drifts off to sleep in Kazeo’s arms, and Kazeo can’t bear to move so he just closes his eyes and pulls Ryohei closer. Finally, he’s home.


End file.
